The Breakfast Club After Detention: Season 1
by A.M.Rouss
Summary: The Monday after has come and the news of the new group in Shermer is going to be met with very mixed reactions. Opposition will come from all angles and some may not live to see the end of it. Rated T just to be safe but most chapters will probably be okay to be rated K . Pairings are AllisonXAndrew, ClaireXBender, and BrianXOC
1. Chapter 1

**A.N.: Hi, people. Welcome to my first fanfiction for the Breakfast Club and I admit that I have close to zero experience with this fandom; but was sad to see the story end when detention did. I have seen two or three other stories pertaining to the same idea but to my knowledge, none of them have been completed. This story will have at least one sequel, if not two or three, possibly more. Also, the original plan for this story was for it to be an animated web series; due to the lack of an artist and lack of time, this plan did not come to fruition. But in honor of the original plan, the chapters will be titled episodes. But that's enough of my chatter; here's the story. I hope you all enjoy it :D**

 **Episode 1: The Monday After**

In a small, rundown house in one of Shermer's poorest neighborhoods, it appeared that everyone had gone to bed; but in a tiny bedroom, Allison sat on her bed, gazing out her window at the moon. It was almost a new moon, but it was still enough to illuminate her messy room with its silver light. In her lap was her newest sketch; it was of Andrew Clark.

She couldn't believe they had kissed. She couldn't believe that they had all agreed to remain friends when school started back on Monday, in other words, tomorrow. None of them really had anything in common, other than being misfits at heart; but would that be enough to keep them all together? Allison hoped so.

But was it a realistic hope? Claire had been taught from the time she could talk that appearances were all important; that they even beat out your own happiness and well-being. Andrew was so desperate for his father's approval, would he be able to bring himself to possibly disappoint the man? Bender was so used to constantly being treated like shit that he just wasn't really a big fan of company in general. She knew she could count on Brian. He was true to his word and had a heart big enough to hold compassion for almost everyone. Bender would probably join them on the rare chance that he wasn't in trouble and felt like company.

She knew that Claire and Andrew had been sincere; they _wanted_ to stay friends with her, Brian, and Bender. But would they be able to go through with it?

 _'Maybe we all have more in common than I thought. All of us have shitty families who either don't really care about us, are obsessed with our success, or, in Andrew's case, both. If we do stick together, we'll be all each other has,'_ she thought. This gave her a bit more hope. Surely, if she realized this then the others had as well.

With that, she turned to gaze at her room. It was tiny, barely fitting her twin bed, her bag, a small three-drawer dresser, and a desk that was so old, it would probably collapse under the weight of one of her textbooks. She mainly used her desk as a place to store her finished drawings. Her wardrobe was so lacking, that it easily fit in her dresser, even though she had a small closet. But even though most of her furniture was a reminder of how little her parents cared, she was smiling. She would have, at the very least, one true friend tomorrow. That was more than she had ever had.

With that in mind, Allison put her sketch of Andrew in her bag so that she could finish it in class tomorrow and settled down for the night.

Monday morning came, and Allison had decided to set her alarm to wake her up an hour earlier than usual. If Andrew did keep his promise, Allison wanted to look her best. But it would take while since she was out of practice. Reaching under her bed, she pulled out a black makeup bag that had mysterious stains on it. She had managed to nab it out of the garbage when her mother had decided that she needed a new one; her mother had even left all of her old makeup in it!

 _'I just hope I remember how to use it,'_ Allison thought in worry as she gazed at the beat up bag. She stared at it a second longer before walking to her dresser and pulling that days outfit. She decided to go with some of her lighter-colored clothes; she chose her light gray long-sleeved shirt, her knee-length silver skirt, Claire's ribbon, and her only pair of shoes. She then headed to the bathroom to take a very short, very cold shower. Once again, her parents had let the water get ice cold before finishing up. _'Maybe if I could stand the cold water better, I wouldn't have so much dandruff,'_ she thought forlornly. The water was usually so cold by the time she got to take her shower that she could barely stay in long enough to clean her body, let alone her hair.

She forced herself to stand the cold water long enough to clean her hair and hopped out, hoping the friction from drying off would help warm her up. She also raked her brush through her thick, dark brown- almost black- hair. It hurt and took fifteen minutes longer than usual because, in order to make sure her hair was clean, she had scrubbed it three times, leading to extreme tangles.

After pulling on her clothes, except for Claire's ribbon, she sat down to put on some make up. But when she opened her case, she found that most of her makeup was in such short supply that she'd be better off wearing none at all. The only thing she had enough of to be useful was her lip gloss, which she quickly applied. She had to wipe it off and redo it twice because she was still shivering from her shower. She also made quick time of brushing her teeth before moving on to Claire's ribbon.

She knew that this one little ribbon was going to give her the most trouble this morning as she had no clue how to put it on. She desperately tried to remember what Claire had done with the damn thing to make it look nice, but she never even came close. She tried for a good thirty minutes to get it right but finally decided that she need to make breakfast and pack lunch. It wouldn't be much longer before her parents left for work and Allison knew they wouldn't wait for her to get finished before leaving.

For breakfast, she made herself a peanut butter, pixie stick, and captain berry crunch sandwich. And for lunch, she packed a container filled with sliced apples, bananas, and celery; a jar of peanut butter; a few cans of Pepsi; and a tiny container of pixie stick powder. She knew most people found her diet weird, and she knew it was weird, but it was born out of necessity; and the necessity hadn't changed.

Her folks were settled in the living room on the love seat, eating their breakfast of buttered toast and enjoying a leisurely conversation before work when Allison walked in to eat her breakfast with her bag packed and ready to go. They didn't even acknowledge her existence.

Determined to get a reaction out of them this morning, Allison plopped herself into the only other chair in the room and propped her feet up on the immaculate coffee table. She recalled from her earliest memories that her mother was a complete nut for health and manners so, theoretically, this _should_ bug her enough to make her speak to Allison; after all, Allison had been doing this every morning for over a year. The woman was bound to crack soon.

Her mother turned to her and Allison felt ecstatic. Her father was far easier to annoy, so she hadn't spoken to her mother in nearly four years; and it had been seven years since either of them had addressed her by name. Her mother's eyes were glaring at her as if she was something filthy that she had stepped in, but Allison couldn't care less. Her mother opened her mouth to speak. _'Here it comes,'_ Allison thought, barely containing her glee.

"Alisha, get your feet off the table right now!" her mother yelled in a cold, stern voice. Allison vaguely realized that she now felt physically ill through the numbness that had filled her mind the instant her mother had spoken. "I said 'now', Alisha!" her mother yelled in the same tone as before. She slowly removed her feet from the table, her mind still in a daze at what her mother had said. _'She forgot my name; she actually forgot my name! How do you forget your own kid's name?!'_ kept repeating in her mind in an endless loop.

Satisfied now that her daughter had followed her order, Mrs. Reynolds turned back to her husband. "I have to go to work now, Michael. Remember, meet me at the restaurant at seven o' clock for dinner," she told him, her voice now filled with love, all traces of coldness gone. "Sure, Val," Michael responded before giving her a quick, affectionate kiss on the forehead. Allison felt pure jealousy and anger shoot through her; why couldn't they show _her_ love and affection like that?

She didn't have time to dwell on it; her mother was leaving and Allison couldn't afford to get detention. If the kiss she shared with Andrew meant to him what it did to her, then she knew he would want her to be at the wrestling meet this coming Saturday to cheer him on. So she hurried after her mother and just barely got in the car before her started backing out of the driveway.

Once at the school, Allison rushed inside as fast as her feet would carry her, wanting to put as much distance between herself and her mother as possible. It took every last shred of her resolve to keep herself from breaking down into tears; she had sworn years ago that she would never shed another tear over her so-called parents, no matter what the did to her.

She went to the girls' bathroom; people never started using it as a hangout this early, not when it was okay with the teachers to be in the halls. Since it was first thing in the morning, she could hide away from everyone until she came to terms with the newest development in her relationship with her folks.

But no matter how hard she tried to make it not matter, the morning's events kept repeating in her mind and Allison felt tears start to pool her eyes. Before she could wipe them away, three girls walked in wearing bright smiles.

Claire was at the front of the group in her pink high tops, white skinny jeans, pink shirt with red floral print, her single diamond earring, and her leather jacket. To her right was Cecil McWorthington, a cruel girl who only seemed to thrive when she was causing someone some type of pain. Cecil was one of those people who you could easily identify from a distance thanks to her thick mass of bushy, curly black hair. Even though her hair was as messy as Allison's any day, Cecil somehow made the look look good. Her cold, emotionless sapphire blue eyes even sent chills down Vernon's spine. She had decided to wear her cheerleading uniform to school which meant a red and gold tank top and skirt with white sneakers. To Claire's left was Teresa Nickles, a small girl with pale, creamy skin and shoulder-length pale brown hair. Her wide hazel eyes had an innocent shine about them. She wasn't mean-hearted, just naive enough to do the bidding of someone cruel at the drop of a hat. She was also loyal enough to make a dog look like a deserter. Teresa had also decided to wear her cheerleading uniform, probably thinking it would be cool for her and Cecil to match.

"Oh, look girls; it's the basketcase. How much do you want to bet that she's hiding in here so that nobody respectable has to see her ugly mug?" Cecil asked the moment she saw Allison. Claire quickly replied with a hard slap to Cecil's shoulder, giving her a glare that clearly said 'what the hell is wrong with you?'. Cecil just stared back at her dumbfounded; Claire had never challenged anything she said before. Well, she had once when they were eleven, but Cecil had nipped that habit in the bud immediately. Claire had gotten the message then, so why was she doing this now?

However, Teresa seemed oblivious to all of this. She gasped, her innocent eyes shining, and ran to Allison's side. "Oh my gosh, look at you!" she squealed. "I always told everyone that you're a beautiful girl, but nobody would listen. And now look at you; you look _so_ much better today! You are going to knock this school dead out of pure shock! What's your name again, 'cause I really don't want to have to call you basketcase." This was why Teresa was so loved; she didn't even know everyone's name and yet she could always give everyone at least five compliments without taking a breath.

And what did Teresa receive for her kindness? A slap to the back of her head by her supposed best friend. "Shut up, nitwit!" Cecil growled at her through clenched teeth. "Why'd you do that?" Teresa pouted, holding the back of her head with both hands.

"You just don't compliment people like her; they don't deserve it!" This reply just confused poor Teresa even more. "Oh, forget it. Come on, girls. Let's go find the guys," Cecil said, stalking off. It always frustrated her to no end when someone couldn't see the brilliance of her logic; but her boyfriend, Matthew Young, always made everything better.

"You two go ahead, I'm going to stay here and hang out with Allison," Claire told them. Cecil was once again dumbfounded. She had one rule for her girls: 'Don't give any losers the time of day unless it's to make them miserable. Don't follow this rule and I will make your life hell.' Claire had seemed just fine with this on Friday; what had gotten into her over the weekend? And why did she know the basketcase's name?

 _'Something very wrong is happening here,'_ she thought. But she wouldn't put much thought into it now; a yelling match this early could be bad for her complexion. Besides, what was the harm in Claire hanging out with _one_ loser? As long as everyone else followed her rule, life should remain picture perfect. With this in mind, she led Teresa out of the bathroom. _'It's probably best to let Claire work through this weird phase of hers.'_ Because that's what it had to be, right? A phase of taking pity on the lowest of the low.

While they were walking out, Claire gave Allison a hug. "It's good to see you; I've been looking all over for you and the others," Claire told her with a smile. Then she noticed the tears pooling in Allison's eyes. "Oh, Allie, don't listen to Cecil. She's an ice queen if there ever was one. I swear, she lives to make people miserable. You're ten times the person she is; you can't let her and her lackeys get to you. Besides, you look beautiful," she soothed misinterpreting the cause of her friend's tears.

"I don't give a damn about Cecil." It was true; the words of Cecil and people like her had ceased to mean much to her.

"Well, what happened?" Claire was feeling a bit helpless; how could she help Allison if she didn't know what was wrong?

Allison felt horrible. Claire was looking at her with such worry; she didn't want to make her friends worry. She wanted to make them laugh, to be the one to cheer _them_ up. She felt enraged as a tear slide down her cheek; no-one was ever supposed to see her break down over those bastards she had had the misfortune of being born to.

She tried to answer Claire, to tell her not to worry, but her throat had gone tight and it was hard to talk. Finally she was able to gasp out the root of the problem. "She forgot my name."

Claire's face drained of color as she understood; there was only one person who Allison could mean. "Oh, Allie," she breathed as she wrapped Allison in a tight, comforting hug. Allison quickly returned it as sobs started to overtake her; the realization of just how little her parents cared about her cutting her deep.

 _'Oh, Allie,'_ Claire thought. She wanted to help Allison but how do you force someone to care about someone else? All she knew was that she had to find a way to get Allison out of that house. But where would she go? The only person in their group who came from a family with enough extra money to support a second child was Claire; and she knew that her folks wouldn't take Allison in unless CPS had removed her from the Reynolds' home first. That way, they could swoop in and make themselves advocates for unfortunate kids everywhere; thereby bettering their reputations even more.

 _'I just have to figure out something,'_ Claire thought desperately as she held her sobbing friend. True, Allison was far from insane, but how much longer could she take the mental stress of living with those people?

Andrew was smiling as he gazed out the window of his father's truck. His father was still lecturing him but Andrew had managed to tune him out pretty well by now. It was the same lecture he'd heard a thousand times before: "Get tougher. Don't blow your ride. Show how good you are; show that you're to be respected. If the other guy gets hurt it's his fault for being weak. In fact, you'll be helping him by hurting him; show him he needs to toughen up." Basically the same spiel he'd been hearing since he was old enough to join school sports.

This same lecture had been pissing Andrew off for the last few years; his father honestly believed that those who were considered losers, or who simply didn't want to fight, were weak, worthless. He thought that those who were picked on and bullied, like Brian and Allison, had brought their torment at school on themselves somehow. He thought Larry Lester had deserved what Andrew had done to him.

 _'Poor Larry.'_ Andrew's smile slipped at the thought. He had found out at Saturday night's practice that Larry wasn't going to come back to Shermer; he had decided to be home schooled from now on.

Andrew couldn't blame the guy. He still remembered every detail from that day.

 _It was the start of another Monday afternoon practice. The last game had been a disaster, especially for Andrew; he just couldn't catch a break. It hadn't helped any that he, along with half of team, was still getting over a cold. Coach wasn't that upset; half the school had been out with this cold and they'd had a perfect season until this last game. Andrew's father was another story; one would think Andrew had just killed every puppy in town and then damned the entire world to Hell with how his father was yelling. His mother had tried to intervene, something she hadn't done in years, but it had been useless. All she had received for her efforts was a very harsh tongue lashing that had left her standing in the middle of the hallway, feeling ashamed of herself, with tears streaming down her cheeks. Andrew would have his chance at redemption two Saturdays from now and he going to work his ass off to make sure he didn't waste it._

While he was taping up his knee, he looked across the locker room. There was Larry Lester with his small, skinny form and his thin, hairy legs. The only reason he was even on the team was because so few people had tried out this year. Matt Young and many of the other jocks in the school looked down on him, calling him weak. Weak... that was what Andrew's father had called him after the game. To Andrew's father, weak meant that you were worthless, doomed to live a life where your biggest accomplishment would be drowning in debt because you would never be able to even keep yourself fed, let alone pay bills. If you were weak, you would never be able to beat anyone out of anything; a job, a girlfriend, a respectable place in life... none of those would ever be yours if you were weak.

'He thinks _I'm_ weak?! At least I earned my place on this team; Larry was just convenient!' _he thought in rage. He felt rage at himself for never being enough, rage at his mother for not being able to stop her husband's constant stream of hateful words, and rage at his father for being obsessed with weakness and strength._

His rage continued to build as he taped his knees. By the time he was finished, his rage was so great that he was barely capable of thinking, he was barely aware of his surroundings. Still not really thinking, he grabbed his tape and went over to Larry.

'He wants to see me be strong?' _was the only thought that went through his head. His memories of what happened next were a bit cloudy, but Andrew knew most of what happened._ _Larry saw Andrew coming but didn't suspect that anything bad would happen; true, he could see Andrew was angry, but Andrew was also the only person on this team who was decent to him. Andy didn't take his anger out on others; that was Matt's thing._

 _When he reached Larry, Andrew shoved him against the locker. Realizing that Andrew was going to do something terrible to him, Larry swung his leg back, kicking Andrew. The kick had hit just above his knee and Andrew had to stumble back to keep himself upright. Unfortunately, the kick did nothing to bring Andrew back to his senses._

In response to the kick, Andrew had sent a fist flying. The punch sent Larry's head snapping to the right. Before he could recover, Andrew grabbed a handful of Larry's dirty blonde hair and slammed his head against the locker, leaving Larry only semi-conscious. Cheered on by his friends, who had gathered to see the one-sided fight, Andrew preceded to tape poor Larry's buns together, still operating on his blind rage.

 _Larry was just starting to come back to awareness when somebody grabbed Andrew's arm in a vice-grip and yanked him away from Larry. Andrew came face to face with the Coach, and boy, was he pissed. His face was red, his eyes so wide that they looked like they would pop out of their sockets, and Andrew could see a bulging vein in his forehead. Their Coach, while stern, was very well loved throughout the school. He looked out for the students and was almost like a grandfather to them, especially to his sport teams as he coached both wrestling and baseball. It saddened everyone who knew him to know that, since he was sixty years old, Coach Schmidt would be retiring in the upcoming years._

Seeing the normally kind face of his beloved Coach this angry with him was what snapped Andrew back to his senses. He started looking around and quickly put two and two together. "Oh, God, Larry..." he gasped.

"Clark," Coach snarled in a low, dangerous voice, "wait for me outside." Andrew all but ran out of there.

'How the hell could I do that to poor Larry?' _he silently asked himself. How could he? True, Larry wasn't really cut out for wrestling, but he was an okay guy. He didn't deserve this. His father may think that this is the kind of thing that proved strength, but Andrew had never felt lower in his life._

He heard Coach coming out of the gym but he kept his gaze on the ground. "Explain," was the only thing Coach said to him but you could tell by his tone that he was still pissed.

Andrew kept silent for a few minutes. What could he say? He couldn't justify what he did; hell he didn't

want _to justify it. Nothing he thought of sounded acceptable, but he knew Coach wasn't going to let him go without an explanation._

 _"I don't know, Coach," he finally got out. "I was just taping up my knees and I was thinking about my family, my dad, and I just so angry. I didn't have a beef with Larry, I just wasn't thinking."_

Coach Schmidt softened. "Andrew, you're a good kid so I'll work with the principal on not expelling you. I've heard how your father talks to you; I wanted to deck the bastard. If he talks to you like that all the time, then it's perfectly natural for you to have some anger issues. But you got to get help for them, son. They aren't healthy for you and they sure as hell aren't healthy for anyone around you," he advised. He then led Andrew to Vernon's office and managed to get Andrew's punishment downgraded to Saturday detention.

Andrew knew that Coach was right; it had taken everything he had not to do something similar to Bender in detention. The only thing that had stopped him was the fact that Bender had stayed still, giving him a few moments to calm himself down. In Andrew's mind, Bender had started acting like his father; and Andrew had started seeing red. That was all it took now to make Andrew see red, seeing someone act like his father.

As for his actual father, things had nearly come to blows after detention; his father had insulted Allison. He had approved of her until Andrew told him how she usually dresses. Then he said things like 'She probably gets a lot of grief then.' and 'You shouldn't have someone who's probably a weakling for a girlfriend.' The only thing that kept Andrew from giving his father a right hook was the fact that they would probably crash if he did.

He would talk to his mother after school; she'd understand and get him some help. Maybe he could convince her to get herself some help to; Lord knows, she needed it. The woman talked better about garbage than she did about herself. Andrew tried to tell her that the horrible things she said about herself weren't true, but he could tell by the look on her face that she never believed him. She had been around Andrew's father for so long that she believed his hateful words.

 _'Bender was right; our dads should get together and go bowling,'_ Andrew thought bitterly. His father and Bender's were the same; Bender's dad just used fists where Andrew's used words.

 _'Maybe, after we get some help, Mom will get the courage to kick him out,'_ he thought in amusement. His mom was actually pretty cool whenever his dad wasn't around; they could both be happy if it was just the two of them.

He vaguely realized that his dad was still lecturing him from the driver's seat. _'Does he ever shut up? Why was I ever worried about making this guy proud, anyway? He's as sick as Bender's dad.'_ Andrew was upset that he let his father get to him. He was upset that, like his mother, he had started to believe his father's words.

But after talking to Allison and the others in detention, he realized how wrong his father was. His friends were stronger than any of the school jocks. Shermer's jocks liked to think they were the toughest guys around, but Andrew knew that they wouldn't be able to handle the strain of what his friends went through on a daily basis for even half as long as his friends had.

Andrew marveled at the fact that two days ago, he woke up a jock who was, basically, just going through the motions and trying to make everyone else happy at the same time. Then, he walked out of detention as a guy who had true friends. He knew that his group would always support each other.

 _'We're going to be a group of misfits trying to get by in a world where misfits aren't tolerated,'_ he realized. But he knew that their group was one to fight for. Hanging out in detention, had been the first time Andrew had truly been happy in years. His jock friends, if one could call them that, never actually cared about Andrew; they knew he didn't share their views on the school's less popular and sporty. They only stood by him in school out of obligation; the jocks and cheerleaders had to present themselves as a unified front to the school so that everyone knew who was on top.

His teammates and the other jocks hadn't spoken to him in years about anything other than sports and girls; nothing truly important. If he had tried to tell them about how his home life was, he would've been laughed at or told to shut his mouth. But his new friends, they cared about how his home life was. Hell, they just cared about him in general; whether he wanted to hangout after school, if he had a good day, and they would be there in a heartbeat if he needed someone to talk to. _'We may be misfits, but we'll look after each other. We'll be the family that our own families can't provide. None of us will ever have to stand alone again; not against parents, teachers, or jerks from school,'_ he realized with a broad smile.

Just as he finished that thought, they pulled up to the school. "I'll see you later, kid," his father said to him. Andrew merely gave him a nod in acknowledgment before rushing out of the car and into the school; he barely remembered to shut the car door.

In his rush, Andrew couldn't stop himself from running into somebody when he rounded the hallway corner. The impact took Andrew and whoever he ran into to the ground. "Watch it, Clark!" was what Andrew heard as he got back up.

He looked and saw Matt Young pulling himself off the ground. _'Matthew Young… he'll make mine and Bender's fathers look like saints when he's older; I'm sure off it,'_ Andrew thought in disgust.

Matt had been dating Cecil before he even moved to Shermer. There had been a rumor, one that Matt and Cecil did nothing to deny, that Matt had been expelled from his last school for nearly killing a student, who had done nothing but annoy him, with a metal baseball bat. According to the rumor, the only reason Matt wasn't behind bars right now was because Cecil had gotten her parents to buy out the jury.

Andrew wouldn't be surprised if the rumor was true; even the teachers were scared of Matthew and the look of complete calm and lack of interest written on his face whenever he threatened someone. It was common knowledge that the bleached blonde was dangerous.

His girlfriend wasn't much better; she was constantly threatening people with their jobs, or their parent's jobs if she was threatening a student, and any hope for a future job if she didn't get her way. The one time someone had called her bluff, they ended up homeless in two weeks. The last time anyone had heard from that student, they still hadn't been able to find work. And Cecil had the money to keep it up; her family was the richest in Shermer, beating out even Claire's parents.

Speaking of the wicked witch, there she was, standing behind Matt as he picked himself up.

"Sorry, Matt. Sorry, Cecil," Andrew muttered before taking off again. He hadn't wanted to say anything civil to that asshole and his bitch of a girlfriend but he wanted to keep Matt's anger to a minimum for when he found out about Andrew's new friends. Although he wouldn't leave his friends for anything in the world, he wanted to avoid Hurricane Matt if at all possible. It was so easy for Matt to make someone's life hell, it was scary.

Hoping against hope that Hurricane Matt wouldn't be too awful, Andrew sought out his friends, specifically his girlfriend. It hadn't been until after he had left detention that he realized that he had forgotten to get Allison's phone number and address. He was going to correct that mistake as soon as he found her. But how would he find her? He didn't have her locker number and he was fairly certain they didn't share a class. _'Well,'_ Andrew thought, a little annoyed with himself and his lack of forethought, _'I guess I'll have to wait till lunch to find her.'_

Andrew continued trying to find his friends while Matt stared after him. Cecil just stared at her boyfriend in annoyance before sighing and wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "Come on, baby," she whispered in his ear. "We still have ten minutes before class starts and we could always skip first period; who needs personal finance anyway?" she continued as she started rubbing his shoulders.

Matt, however, was not amused. "Not now, Cecil," he warned in an impatient tone, still staring after Andrew.

"You shouldn't worry about Clark," she whispered to him as she placed light kisses along his jaw. "He's always been a weird one," she chuckled.

"I said not now, Cecil!" he yelled as he violently jerked away from her. His tone was so frightening that several of the students who were near them turned and ran. Cecil had to stop herself from taking a step back. Even she knew to be afraid of Matthew Young; a fact that Matt was well aware of.

"I just don't see what the big deal is," she mumbled, half hoping he didn't hear her lest he think she was challenging him. Nothing made Matt angrier than a challenge to the authority he believed he had.

Matt sighed, softening his features. In a seemingly tender gesture, he reached out and cupped her chin. Cecil was suspicious but allowed the touch anyway. When Matt didn't do or say anything hurtful, she relaxed. As soon as she did, Matt tightened his grip so much that Cecil knew she would have bruises.

He leaned down to where he was almost kissing her before hissing, "You _complete idiot_! Your money really is all you have going for you, isn't it? And it's not even _your_ money; it's Daddy's." He pushed her to the ground in disgust before following the path Andrew had taken. Cecil hurried after him, not willing to face a crowd of people who didn't like her without her girls or the jocks behind her.

"Andrew's never liked me, but that back there wasn't dislike; that was nervousness. First your story about Claire and the loser in the bathroom, and now Andrew's jumpy enough to run the other way the second he notices me. I know they both had detention on Saturday. Put two and two together, Cecil; what do you get?" he asked as way of explanation.

"Four?" her answer was more of a question itself. Where in the world was he going with this?

"I didn't mean literally!" he snapped before taking a deep breath and forcing himself to calm down. "I meant, put the pieces together. Claire and Andrew both had detention on Saturday and now they're both acting strange. Something happened in detention and we need to find out what."

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 **A.N.: Ooooooh, Matt is plotting. How do you all think he and Cecil are going to react to the news of our five favorite characters standing by each other? And do you think Claire will figure out a way to help Allison and Bender? Why am I asking you guys these questions? XD But seriously, what did you guys think of the chapter? I would really appreciate some feedback. The second chapter is in the works and I hope to have it up soon. I'll see you guys then. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

**A.N.:** **Hi, everyone :D Welcome to the second episode of Breakfast Club: After Detention :D I am so excited for this. Thank you to everyone who reviewed, followed, and favorited. I almost wanted to cry when I saw them; I never expected this kind of response. So thank you, thank you, thank you :D Enough chatter from me; enjoy the episode :D**

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 _Previously on Breakfast Club: After Detention-_

 _Mrs. Reynolds: Alisha, get your feet off the table right now!_  
 _Allison: She forgot my name._  
 _Claire: Oh, Allie. 'I just have to figure something out.'_

 _Andrew: Oh, God, Larry..._  
 _Coach Schmidt: Clark, wait for me outside._  
 _Andrew: I was just taping up my knees and I was thinking about my family, my dad, and I just so angry. I didn't have a beef with Larry, I just wasn't thinking._  
 _Coach Schmidt: If he talks to you like that all the time, then it's perfectly natural for you to have some anger issues. But you got to get help for them, son. They aren't healthy for you and they sure as hell aren't healthy for anyone around you._

 _Matthew: Andrew's never liked me, but that back there wasn't dislike; that was nervousness. First your story about Claire and the loser in the bathroom, and now Andrew's jumpy enough to run the other way the second he notices me. I know they both had detention on Saturday. Put two and two together, Cecil; what do you get?_  
 _Cecil: Four?_  
 _Matthew: I didn't mean literally! I meant, put the pieces together. Claire and Andrew both had detention on Saturday and now they're both acting strange. Something happened in detention and we need to find out what._

 **Episode 2: Retaliation:**

Claire had had a frustrating morning; she had been excited for school, for once, and her parents had gotten nosey. They couldn't find out about Bender and the others; they just wouldn't tolerate her having friends with anyone other than her fellow cheerleaders and the children of her father's business buddies. They were too afraid that anybody else befriending their daughter would hurt their reputation.

She had been surprised by Cecil with a ride to school. Normally Claire didn't like making the walk to school but she wanted to put some distance between herself and most of the other cheerleaders. She would still hang out with Teresa but she had wanted a way to be rid of the others for so long.

The Thursday when she had received her detention punishment, she talked to her brother. Normally her brother didn't give two shits about her but he must have heard the desperation in her voice over the phone. He had reminded her that he went through the same stuff she was going through before he left for college; he hadn't wanted to be alone either, so he had put on a mask for the populars just like Claire was doing now. She just needed to have faith that everything would work out in time. That Saturday, she had found people who didn't condemn others for being themselves- hell, they encouraged it- and they were willing to accept her despite how she had been acting since middle school. They were nothing short of an answered prayer.

Now that Claire knew leaving the cheerleaders wouldn't leave her all alone, she wanted nothing to do with them outside of cheerleading. But Cecil and Teresa seemed determined to be her shadows for the day and, out of habit, Claire kept a smile plastered on her face, hiding her annoyance. They flanked her wherever she went, never questioning why she was taking this seemingly random path through the school; they were probably too busy chatting to care. Teresa finally noticed that Claire seemed to be looking for someone but she didn't have a chance to question Claire before Cecil found some poor soul to torment. Claire, not in the mood to watch the Queen Bitch in action, claimed that she needed to go to the bathroom. The other two had decided to follow her; Claire ended up finding Allison.

They had to head in different directions when the bell rang but Claire walked to her first period with a sense of purpose. She knew for a fact that she shared her first class with Bender and the teacher, Mrs. Runse, was the kind of teacher to never hand out assigned seats. As this was the only class that she and one of her friends had without Allison, it was the perfect place to ask for advice as to how to help her. Claire couldn't go to Allison with this; the girl was so used to being on her own that she wouldn't even be comfortable getting help for homework, let alone something this serious.

Mrs. Runse took more interest in her classes than most of the other teachers in the school. As you walk into her classroom, you're greeted by posters explaining everything from the periodic table to the organ systems for her science classes. For her sports health classes, she had posters explaining the use of different muscles. To keep up work ethic and make laughs, she had inspirational posters and comedic Garfield posters hanging everywhere. This was by far Claire's favorite class of the day as Mrs. Runse was the only teacher she had who tried to make class fun.

When Claire got to her first class, she was not surprised to find Bender sitting in the back corner with his feet propped up on the table, his sunglasses on, and his head tilted toward the ceiling. Claire went to sit next to him, smiling all the while.

"Asleep already; class hasn't even started yet," she chuckled after moving his sunglasses down to his forehead.

"Claire, for all that is good and sacred in this world, please put back my sunglasses," he moaned.

"First period hasn't even started yet," she laughed.

"It's almost eight in the morning; that is way too early. It should be illegal," Bender continued to moan.

Claire's only response was bend down pepper his face with kisses. Bender merely smiled. "Now _that's_ a wake-up call. Alright, I'm up," he told her. Neither was paying any attention to their classmates, most of whom were staring at the couple as though they were an alien species.

"I need to talk to you," she told him as she sat down and he sat up.

Before Bender could respond, Mrs. Runse started the class. Despite how tired he was, Bender wasn't going to fall asleep on Mrs. Runse; that's why Claire had caught him dozing before the final bell. She was one of the only teachers in this school who didn't think he was a delinquent. He tried to listen, he truly did, but no matter how often Mrs. Runse cracked jokes, biology just bored Bender out of his mind.

The class carried on as normal. They finished the chapter on cell structure and were assigned to make a plant or animal cell out of the materials Mrs. Runse had brought with her to class. They would be given a test on the material next week. Since neither Claire nor Bender were amazing in Biology, it took them most of class to get their cells done.

"So, what did you want to talk about?" he asked her once the bell rang.

"It's Allison's parents. They forgot her name; Bender, she's devastated," Claire told him, her nut brown eyes pleading with him. He would have given her anything just to get that helpless look off her face but he wasn't sure what she wanted or what he could do.

"What kind of asshole forgets their own kid's name? My old man uses me as a punching bag but even he can be bothered to remember my name," he replied. He truly felt bad for Allison; being treated as if you're not even there your entire life is bound to screw with your head. "But we'll all be eighteen in a few years; it sucks, but she'll just have to ride it out."

"We have to help her somehow!" Claire snapped at him in disbelief.

"What the hell do you want me to do, Claire?!" he snapped back. Then he forced himself to take a deep breath in an attempt to calm down. Claire was trying to be a good friend and he shouldn't let his temper get the best of him just because his girlfriend didn't know how the system works. "Cherry, I know you want to help her, we all do, but you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth. You have no idea how these things work."

"What's so complicated about it? We make a couple calls, tell whoever we talk to how horrible her parents are, and then she can leave their place without being called a runaway. And she could stay with one of us without our folks being labeled as kidnappers in case her parents try anything,"

Bender just shook his head as she finished. Her parents being who they were, she probably knew enough to run her own business but she was clueless about the social part of government affairs.

"Here's how it really works, Cherry: we call Child Protective Services, they send a social worker to check things out. If they believe us, they remove Allison from her home, and then they'll ship her off to some foster family. Which means that she could be shipped across the country where we would never see her and there wouldn't be a damn thing any of us would be able to do about it. And that's even if they sent anyone; they normally don't care unless a minor is in 'imminent danger'."

"So just because her parents don't use her as a punching bag like yours do she has to live with them treating her like shit? That's not right," Claire told him, looking lost as to what to do now.

"Yeah. And even when the cases they take on are that restricted, they're still overrun," he replied.

They were quiet as they continued to walk their next classes. Claire looked as though she were giving something some serious thought; Bender just assumed she was trying to come up with another plan to help Allison.

"You sounded like you already had this all figured out, Cherry. What did you need to talk to me for?" he asked out of curiosity. It wasn't like Claire to ask for advice when she was so sure about something; that much was clear from the level of stubbornness she showed on Saturday.

"I figured you would have known who to call to make it happen faster. I already knew it would have been complicated- what isn't with the government? -but I figured we would have had a chance once they heard about how they treat her," she answered, her voice dripping with disappointment.

"Why haven't you reported your parents?" she asked suddenly, taking Bender by surprise.

"What?"

"You sound like you know the system pretty well. Why haven't you called in your parents?"

"It was either my parents or foster care, Cherry. In foster care, you never know what you're going to get; you could end up with worse than what you had," he explained. "At least with my parents I know what I'm in for. Not to mention, if a social worker didn't remove me from the house, my father would skin me alive."

Now Claire just felt terrible; two people she cared about were in horrible situations and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it. _'Well, I refuse to accept that. The one thing Mother was always right about, with the right amount of determination and resources, anything is possible.'_ Now she just needed a new game plan. _'Maybe I can help Andrew out, too. He could use a break from his dad.'_

"What class do you have next?" her boyfriend asked, bringing her out of her thoughts.

"Nothing much; just cheerleading practice," she muttered quite unenthusiastically. She had considered quitting the team before but it wasn't worth the drama with her parents. "What about you?"

"A free; I'll come watch you," Bender replied with a smirk. "That's what boyfriends do, right?"

When they arrived at the football field, all of the other cheerleaders had already arrived. Just as in Biology, they all ceased their conversations to stare at the couple. Not being caught up in each other this time, the couple paused in their walk when they realized they were being stared at.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," Bender snapped at them. The crowd ignored him.

"Claire," Cecil growled as she emerged from the crowd. "What are you doing with him?"

Claire was quiet for a moment. She knew that Cecil knew who Bender was; everyone, except for the newest students, knew who Bender was. The only people who liked him, before last Saturday, were the people he shared his dope with. If Cecil found out that she was Bender's girlfriend, well it wouldn't be pretty. She, like Andrew, had been trying to put this off for as long as possible.

' _Well, here goes nothing,'_ Claire thought. Taking a deep breath, she grabbed Bender's hand and looked Cecil right in the eyes. She didn't miss the way those eyes seemed to catch fire when they landed on hers and Bender's joined hands. "He's my boyfriend," Claire said, keeping her voice as steady as she could. She didn't miss the way Cecil seemed to almost growl at that bit of news.

"Since when?" Cecil asked in a slightly high pitched voice; it was the voice she used to express her anger without alerting the teacher that something was up. ' _Brilliant,'_ Claire thought. ' _She's pissed.'_

"Well?" Cecil asked, her voice going higher still.

"Since Saturday," Claire finally replied, wincing when she noticed the slight waver in her voice. She was grateful that Bender was staying quiet; Bender was brutally and painfully honest, for the most part. The last thing the situation needed was for Bender to shoot his mouth off and anger Cecil even more.

"'Since Saturday'? Well, h-how exactly did this come about?" Cecil asked as she crossed her arms. The lower eyelid of her left eye was beginning to twitch.

"None of your damn business," Bender told her with a glare. He knew how Cecil worked; hell he practically lived with the adult versions of her and her boyfriend. He'd be damned before he let her intimidation tricks work on him. ' _We just have to show her we're not scared of her is all,'_ he thought as he and Cecil continued to stare each other down. But no matter how much Bender understood her tactics, he could not deny that there was something, some insane glint in Cecil's sapphire eyes that made Bender want to take a step back.

"Girls, what are you doing? You're usually practicing by now; is everything okay?" Mrs. Darvison asked in concern when, five minutes later, the staring contest had yet to end. Even with the students being completely silent, she could pick up on the tension; it was thick enough to be cut with a knife.

"Peachy," Cecil replied without taking her eyes off Bender. Her voice had returned to normal but only a fool would think she had calmed. "Bender was just leaving," she continued.

"Actually, Mrs. Darvison, I was hoping that he could stay. We started dating on Saturday and he wants to watch me practice," Claire told her.

"Bender? John Bender, grade 10?" Mrs. Darvison asked, staring intently at him.

Bender finally broke his gaze with Cecil to look at the teacher. Mrs. Darvison's gaze was starting to make him anxious. She wasn't looking at him with any form of malice but rather with excitement. Why, though? From Bender's experience, malice, anger, excitement, it never mattered; it all meant something bad for him. But lying would do him no good here.

"Yeah, that's me."

"Girls, go ahead and practice. John-," Mrs. Darvison started with a gleeful smile.

"Call me Bender," he interrupted.

"Bender," she repeated with a nod, her smile still in place. "Why don't we talk over by the bleachers?"

Once at the bleachers, Mrs. Darvison still had her smile in place. No Bender was just annoyed; why did she keep smiling? She was probably just going to tell him to leave anyway.

"Anytime you want to watch Claire practice, just sit right up here. Just make sure not to distract her or any of the others. But hopefully you won't be watching her for long."

' _Here it comes; she's going to tell me to stay away from Claire and the other cheerleaders. Not that that's unexpected but does she have to look so damn happy about it?'_ Bender thought.

"Anyway, I've heard that you're quite the troublemaker. You're nothing short of a small legend in the staff room. I saw you get in trouble once; it was at the end of your freshman year. Vernon, the rat, was trying to catch you but you outran him by a mile." Mrs. Darvison seemed to get more excited as she talked.

"Now, if you agree to what I'm going to offer, you need to clean up your act. You'll need to behave in school and keep up your grades, but I think you would be a star on the field," she finished.

"Not that I want to get sent to the office but can you just spit it out?" Bender snapped.

"Yeah, sorry. I babble sometimes. Anyway, you're fast; _really_ fast. My husband, the track coach, is still looking to fill a few spots on his team. You can head down now to see about getting a spot."

"You want me to try out for the track team? You're not going to tell me to get lost and leave the cheerleaders alone?" he asked in confusion. It couldn't be true… An adult couldn't be happy to see him; it just wasn't possible.

"Why would I tell you that? Sure, you're a bit of a wild child but so was when I was your age. Most people go through a wild child phase; you'll grow out of it. But if you do try out for the team, you'll need to keep that wild child attitude off school grounds," the tan blonde told him in understanding.

Bender thought about it. It would be fun to show up those jocks at their own game and it would give him an excuse to be away from home more often; two huge plusses. Also, he had been hearing rumors that a lot of jobs were starting to look for college degrees in their applicants. At the rate he was going, he wasn't getting into college any time soon; being a track star would help fix that. But there was still one problem:

"Don't I need a parent's permission?" he asked, slightly crestfallen.

"Yes, you do," the coach replied. She finally lost her smile; she could tell by Bender's tone that his parents wouldn't be very supportive. "Talk to them about it; in the meantime, stay on the bleachers," she told him.

Bender didn't waste any time; he didn't want to deal with the confusing woman and the disappointment that came with not having a chance at being on the track team. Finding a good spot on the bleachers, he sat down and noticed after a moment that he wasn't alone. Just a few feet down from him, hiding between the seats and peeking out at the ongoing practice, was a small girl. Her tiny build was framed by shoulder-length white blonde hair and work out clothes. She was tensed as though she expected the team to leap into the bleachers and attack her.

"Hey, who are you?" Bender called to her. She turned to him, revealing familiar emerald green eyes. ' _Where have I seen those eyes before?'_ Bender wondered.

"My name's Kim," she responded in such a quiet, timid voice that Bender barely heard her.

"Why are you hiding?" he asked with a little laugh. However, Kim wasn't laughing; if anything she looked like she wanted to cry.

"Today is the last day to try out," she explained. "My brother wants me to but I really don't want to. He says I have to help him look good by being on the team instead of hanging out in the science labs like I did in middle school," she explained.

Bender scowled; who the hell was her brother? If the guy was that desperate to be with the populars, why didn't he try out for something himself? "Just tell your brother to fuck off; you can't let people push you around like that," he advised.

Kim gave a short, humorless laugh. "My brother pushes everyone around," she didn't elaborate any more than that before standing and clearly forcing herself to walk onto the field.

' _Maybe Claire should talk to her...'_ Bender thought since the girls seemed to come from similar pushy families.

By the end of the period, the girl made the team even though anyone could clearly see she was nowhere near enthusiastic about it. Claire inquired as to what Mrs. Darvison wanted with him but Bender made up an excuse; the entire thing was too strange for him to talk about yet. They walked together as long as they could but they had to separate once they got back in the building since their classes were on different ends of the school. As Claire headed to Introduction to Business and Finance, Bender headed to Workshop.

Walking into the sawdust covered room, Bender noticed that he was the last one to arrive. Usually he was the first to arrive as he used his free period to sleep in the empty classroom. The only free workspace left was in between Brian and Matt. This was fine with Bender; he was able to work next to a friend for once and he had enough experience with people like Matt to know how to avoid pissing him off for an hour.

"Hey, Bender," Brian told him quietly as the other boy took his seat. Matt glanced at them out of the corner of his emerald eyes. Cecil had met up with him at the end of second period and told him about Shermer's local princess and criminal couple; it was something that needed to be closely watched.

"Hey, man," Bender responded. "How's it going?"

"Fine," Brian muttered as a blush dusted his cheeks.

Bender raised his eyebrows but decided to not push it, at least not yet. Lunch would be a better place for that discussion.

The teacher decided to go ahead and start class. "Alright, people; today we're starting group projects. In the workplace, you'll rarely ever do anything completely solo. So for this project, you and your partner will each have a different set of blueprints; each set will have a different idea for tables. The project is NOT to make an appealing table; the project is to take to opposite ideas and manage to make something functional out of them. To make a top grade, I need to see at least three elements from both blueprints," Mr. Carr told the class. That was more instruction than he usually gave the class.

Mr. Carr picked up a paper from his desk but the light was hitting it in such a way that Bender could see through it; the paper was blank. Nobody else seemed to have noticed. "The groups," the teacher called out, looking at the blank paper, "are… Bender and Young…" Bender didn't bother to listen after that; he just tilted his head back and quietly chuckled. He walked over to where Matt was picking up blueprints. Both of the boys wore cool expressionless masks.

"How much did your girlfriend pay the teacher to set this up?" Bender asked him.

"Not that it's any of your concern but he was easy to buy out," Matt responded while handing Bender a set of blueprints.

"Why, Matthew, if you wanted to talk to me that badly, all ya had to do was ask," Bender told him with a badly performed Southern Belle accent. Matt growled low in his throat.

"What happened on Saturday?" he growled at Bender.

"I have no clue what you're talking about," Bender lied; Matt wanted to know what all happened between those sentenced to detention last Saturday. Like hell Bender was going to tell him that; he wasn't exactly intimidated by Matt, at least not as much as others, but even so, Claire and Andrew were some of the highest status students here and Alison and himself were some of the lowest; Brian was down there with them. That combination wouldn't go well with this guy.

But Bender wasn't scared for himself or Andrew, the two of them could take care of themselves; it was the others he was scared for. Brian wasn't any good in a fight and Matt and the other jocks could easily outmuscle the girls. It was common knowledge that Matt wasn't afraid to hit a woman.

"I'm going to find out one way or another, you know," the jock told him in a disinterested voice while looking at his blueprints. "It would just save everyone time and energy if you tell me now," he told Bender in a matter-of-fact tone.

After making sure the teacher wasn't paying them any any attention, he hissed, "Go fuck yourself, asshole."

Matt didn't reply right away, so Bender got to work studying his blueprints. After a few silent minutes, Matt spoke up. "Claire is a beauty. An almost impossible catch considering who you are. It would be a shame if I had to… _talk_ to her about this instead. I don't think that would go very well, do you?" He sounded completely calm the entire time.

Bender barely managed to keep any remnants of self-control. "You listen to me, you son-of-a-bitch!" Bender snarled while slamming his hand down on Matt's workspace.

In a second, Matt had grabbed the hand-held electric saw, turned it on, and slammed the spinning blade between Bender's widely spread fingers, barely avoiding cutting the skin between the fingers. "No, I don't listen to lowlifes like you. _You_ will listen to _me_. This school is _my_ place. Vernon may be principle but _I_ run the show here. I run a tight ship and I _will not_ tolerate any rebellion in _my place_. Get the picture, burnout?" he hissed at Bender, his emerald eyes flaming.

But Bender didn't respond. He wasn't going to say yes to this guy but he couldn't put his new friends in danger by saying no either. For the second time that day, Bender was locked in a staring contest. But he wasn't sure he would be able to win this one. Cecil just acted insane, this guy had the actions to back it up.

Brian, who was working a few tables away, overheard bits and pieces of the conversation and felt dread settle in his stomach. Matt was threatening his new friends. What should he do? Was there anything he could do? From what he had managed to catch, all Matt wanted was information. If he didn't get it, he would go after Claire. Was hanging on to this information really worth that?

He heard Matt's saw turn off and let out a breath of relief. His friends wouldn't like it, but Brian knew what he had to do.

Once the bell rang, Brian grabbed his things and made a beeline for the hallway. He saw Bender grab his book bag and look around the classroom, trying to find his friend. Bender ended up giving a huff and storming off towards the cafeteria. He didn't see Brain huddled by the lockers because the hallway was already swarming with people, student and teacher alike. Brian stayed where he was, keeping an eye out.

Matt took a few minutes to leave the classroom. Brian followed him from the other side of the hallway until the blonde reached his locker.

Some instinct in Brian made him walk as silently as possible as he approached Matt. Brian thought he was fairly quiet but Matt heard him anyway.

"I am having a _very_ bad day so far, so you had better have a good fucking reason for bothering me," he growled without checking to see who he was talking to.

Brian felt his knees start to shake. But he couldn't stop now. He couldn't risk his friends being hurt because of this control freak.

"I-I-I-I… Well, you s-s-see," Brian stuttered. His fear was keeping from forming a coherent sentence.

Matt looked back at him, merely glancing over his shoulder. "Normally, I would make an example of you for wasting my time like this, but I don't have time today. I need to have a chat with a red head," he growled at Brian while shoving past him.

Brian watched him in horror. ' _He's already going after Claire?!'_ he thought in panic.

"Wait!" he yelled after the tormentor, turning a few heads in the process. Matt ignored him and continued walking. "I was there on Saturday; I know what happened in detention!" Brian continued.

This got Matt's attention. He turned back toward Brian wearing a smirk and an ecstatic look in his eye. His expression was akin to that of a predator that just cornered it's next meal. "Really?" Matt asked as he slowly walked back to Brian.

Unnerved by the bleached blonde's expression, Brian took a few steps back. This caused Matt to rush forward. He gripped Brian's shoulder so hard that Brian didn't even think about trying to get away.

"Don't be so nervous, friend," Matt told him, now sounding perfectly friendly. "Just tell me what you know and I'll make sure that you're rewarded."

"You'll give me whatever I want for it?" Brian asked him, trying to summon his courage. Maybe by making this one deal he could protect everyone he cared about.

Matt just widened his smirk. "Sure I will." He pulled a pocket knife out of his pocket long enough to make sure Brian had seen it. "I'm pretty sure you want to keep all ten fingers so... yeah, you'll get what you want if you tell me what happened," he told Brian, still keeping his friendly tone, while tightening his grip on the smaller boy's shoulder.

Brian's eyes widened with fear. What had he gotten himself into?

* * *

 **A.N.:** **Brian, Brian, Brian... Why do I do this to you? :D How did you guys like this episode? It took me over a month to write but now that I've posted the story, this story will be at the top of my to do list in my free time :D That being said, I have a lot of free time lately so hopefully it won't take me that long but we all have to keep in mind that this chapter was almost done when I posted the story. See you all next time :)  
**


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